Dancing
by K.H. Wright
Summary: America gets invited to a party thrown by Poland, but there's one problem. He can't dance. But he thinks he knows someone who can teach him... Rated T to give me room.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ah, finally I get to write a fic of my favorite Hetalia pairing. I honestly can't get over how cute these two are. :3 Anyway, R&R if you please.**

**o0o**

America stared down at the invitation and read it over for the third time.

"_You're like, totally invited to a party at my place, this Saturday, at 9:00 p.m. It's, like, a black tie affair, so dress up or you'll like, totally embarrass yourself! There will be refreshments and plenty of dancing. Oh, and you're like, not allowed to say no."_

_ -Poland_

America hung his head. A party? He'd have to wear a suit? And that wasn't even the worst part. He'd have to dance. He hung his shoulders and sat on his couch. Although he was good at a lot of things, dancing was not one of them and going to a party where the world would find that out was definitely not on the top of his to-do list. Sighing he racked his brain for anyway out of it. Faking sick wouldn't work considering he never got sick, and hiding from Poland would hurt his pride. No, it seemed there was no way out of this party short of jumping off a cliff. He ran his fingers through his hair. Maybe he could get someone to teach him. He was a fast learner, or at least that's what he'd been told, and he was sure that someone would teach him and keep it secret.

"France is a good dancer," America muttered to himself, "but he'll laugh me out of his house if I asked him then tell everyone about it. Austria's good with musical things, but we haven't talked in a while…" Slowly, he counted off the others on his fingers, rejecting each one for different reasons. Then it hit him.

England.

England was a decent dancer and, with the right coercion, he wouldn't tell the others about it. He gripped the invitation triumphantly and took off to get a flight to England's place.

**o0o**

America walked into England's house without knocking and went straight for the library, where he knew England would be taking his tea about now. He was right, of course. When he entered the library, he saw England facing away from him, sipping his tea next to an open book.

"England!" he called, making the older man jump and choke on his tea before he angrily turned to face America.

"America! When the hell did you get here?" he demanded. America smiled.

"Just a moment ago. I let myself in, so I wouldn't interrupt your tea."

"And what did you just do?" England muttered, but America didn't catch it. "What do you want this time?"

"Uh, I just wanted to talk," he said, playing with the zipper on his bomber jacket.

"That's what phones are for," England sighed. "Come sit down with me." America went and sat opposite of England at the table. England poured him some tea and waited not-so-patiently as America added sugar and cream to the drink and took a long sip.

"So what is it?" England asked, exasperated. America looked up, meeting England's eyes, then averting his own down.

"Well, Poland is having a party…" he began

"Yes," England interjected, "I got the invitation today." America nodded.

"Well, there's gonna be dancing there, and, well, I'm not saying I can't but, dancing isn't exactly, I mean…" England held up his hand with an amused look on his face.

"America, are you saying you can't dance?"

"Yep, that's exactly what I'm saying," he replied with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. England nearly fell out of his chair laughing.

"I was wondering if you'd teach me," America said over the sound of England's laughing. The older man wiped the sides of his eyes with a napkin.

"And why would I do that?" he asked. America had anticipated this reaction and smiled to himself.

"Because if you don't, I'll go to the party dancing like I do, and tell everyone I learned from you when you were playing the part of my big brother," America replied, the smile not leaving his face. England crossed his arms.

"So?"

"So, do you really think Poland would let you live that down? Or better yet, what would France say?" England froze with a cup of tea poised at his lips. Oh God. What _would _France say? He could hear it now:

"_Had he been MY younger brother, he would be able to dance like his graceful big brother."_

Or,

"_I guess he MUST be YOUR younger brother. He definitely inherited YOUR grace."_

The sound of France's smug laugh echoed through his head. The hand that held his tea began to shake. He placed the cup back down on the table and looked to America, who was still smiling.

"Fine. Go situate yourself in a guest room. We start tomorrow."

**Ah, how I love this pairing. Anyway, the next chapter should be posted by tomorrow, so keep an eye out. Now that I finish this I get to go read a book for my English class. Fun stuff. :p Anyway, like I said before, R&R. Ta-ta!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so part two! Hope you enjoy and please leave a nice little review. **

**o0o**

"Goddammit America, if you step on my toes one more time…" England's voice resonated though the library with a tone of annoyance. America winced and took a step away from the older man.

"I can't help it! I don't think you're doing a good job leading," he replied sullenly.

"My leading is fine, thank you." England crossed his arms

"That's what you said three-hundred years ago," the younger man muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing." _Uh-oh, stepped on a land mine,_ America thought. He should've known not to mention the Revolutionary War around England. The older man was still sore about it.

"Hmph. Well, we'd have more room if you'd just let me take you to the ballroom. The library isn't exactly ideal for these kinds of things," England said, pulling a chair away from a table so he could sit and rub his pained feet. America shook his head.

"What if someone walked in? I can't let anyone know I can't dance. All heroes should be able to dance!"

"And why exactly should a hero need to dance?"

America crossed his arms and thought.

"Well, after he saves the beautiful maiden, the town would throw a party for the hero. And at the party, he'd suavely ask the maiden to dance, then they would fall madly in love while dancing to a slow song," he explained, nodding to himself.

"Where do you get these things?" England asked incredulously.

"That doesn't matter. C'mon, let's try again," America said pulling the other man out of his chair.

"Okay, okay," England put his arm around America and took a step forward. Then, to no music, the two began to dance with England calling out directions.

"Okay, now turn. Good. Step back, to the side, pause. Don't look at your feet, look at me. And to the side…OW!"

The two of them hit a stack of books and tumbled to the floor in a tangle of arms, legs and pages.

"America, get off of me!" England called out angrily. America attempted to get up, but another wave of books fell on top of the two men.

"Um," America started nervously, "I think we may have to stay like this forever."

"Just MOVE."

America started to stand cautiously, then slowly helped England to his feet. The older man dusted himself off.

"You see why I said the ballroom would be better? You never listen to me," he said tartly. America looked indignant.

"Maybe that's because you always treat me like a child!" he argued.

"You are a child!" England shot back.

"I am not! I've done very well for myself, thank you. I'm pretty sure I've proven that to you. Why can't you treat me like your equal?" America looked hurt. England simply scowled.

"You will never be my equal," he said, venom dripped from his voice. America took a step back, tears starting in his eyes. England felt a pang in his chest. He hadn't meant to make him cry.

"Look, I didn't mean-"

"No," America interrupted, "you did."

"America-"

"You still think of me as your little brother don't you?"

"No, I-"

"Admit it!" America yelled, tears now rolling down his face. "Admit it or I'll never speak to you again!" England stiffened.

"Okay, I do," he said finally. America began to leave the room. "But why does that matter?"

America stopped at the threshold of the door and turned one more time to England before leaving.

"Because I love you, you idiot."

He left England, dumbfounded, in the library and didn't look back.

**Wow, that got angsty without me trying to. O_O Anyway, I should be posting the next chapter by tomorrow, so once again, keep an eye out. **_**Ciao.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Ahhhhhh!~ Chapter 3. Thank you all for the lovely reviews, I enjoyed every one of them!**

**o0o**

Friday morning turned out to be beautiful. The sun shone happily over the dew covered grass and highlighted the translucent petals of blooming flowers. This would have been a day that America would have reveled in had he not been holed up in his room with the blinds shut, lying under layers of covers. He didn't ever want to leave. Though he wasn't sure if he was mad at himself for breaking down so easily, or if he was mad that England let him walk out after confessing such emotions, he knew one thing; he had been in love with England since he was able to understand what love meant. He had fought to make England see him, not as a little brother, but as an equal and if he could succeed maybe, just maybe, his feelings could be returned.

"I guess I got my answer," America said sadly, letting another tear trickle down his cheek. At the moment, he would've done anything to cut himself off from his thoughts. The same sentence repeated itself in his mind.

_He'll never love you like you love him._

_He'll never love you like you love him._

_He'll never love you like you love him._

America rolled over and covered his head with his blankets. From the corner, Tony watched his friend roll into a ball of depression. With a sigh, the extraterrestrial stood up and left the house.

o0o

England looked down at his tea and sighed. He had thought of nothing but America for the past two days and he would be lying if he said that he wasn't worried about the younger man. The words America left him with still rang through his head.

"_Because I love you, you idiot."_

Love? America was in love with him? And after that confession England hadn't said anything to him. He hadn't stopped him from leaving. Had he completely ruined his friendship with the other man? England sighed again. What was he supposed to do? Before he had a chance to think on it further, he heard a knock at the door. Pushing his tea away from him, he went to answer the door.

He half hoped that it was America, but when he answered the door, he was a little more than shocked. Standing on his welcome mat was America's alien friend Tony. For a moment, the two just stared at each other. Finally, Tony spoke.

"Aren't you gonna invite me in, you fucking limey?" England was tempted to close the door on him, but his curiosity won out and he allowed Tony in. The alien walked inside and plopped himself down on a couch in the living room.

"What the hell did you do?" he said as soon as he situated himself on the couch.

"Huh?"

"America hasn't gotten out of bed in two days. He's not watching any scary movies, and he hasn't played video games with me either," Tony said in an annoyed tone. "So what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" England exclaimed. Then he stopped and thought. "I…didn't do…anything." The two were silent for a moment.

"Fix it," Tony finally said as he left England's house. "Fucking limey." The door slammed behind him and England stood alone in the living room.

_Fix it._

But how?

He stood and thought.

Then he got his coat, and left his house.

**Hey, so I finished early! It's not as long as the others, but I'm happy with it. One more chapter, y'all! Thank you so much for your support! R&R **_**por favor.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So, last chapter. I have to say, I enjoyed writing this a lot. :3 Thanks to all who stuck through it!**

**o0o**

"America-san doesn't look very happy," Lithuania observed from across the room. It was an understatement. Ever since he arrived at Poland's party, America had pretty much kept to himself, standing against the wall, sipping at his champagne.

"Like, never mind him. Where the hell is England? I thought I, like, said that this wasn't optional," Poland responded, folding his arms. On the other side of the room, America tried his hardest to not slump down to the floor. By the wide berth around him, he could tell that the others were picking up on his depression, but he didn't care. He showed up only because he had to. He would not mingle. He would not pretend to be alright. He definitely would not dance. And then he would go home to his dark room and sulk in peace. Looking to the clock, he was glad to see that there was only a few hours left of the party. With a sigh, he went back to watching the other couples on the floor.

Italy and Germany danced gracefully across the floor. Now there was something he didn't understand. How could the two men be together with such distance between them? The two had made their relationship public a few months ago, and they had given America hope. The gap between them was wide; Italy so weak and Germany so strong, but somehow it worked. America had thought, if they could make it work, then he and England definitely had a chance, being so close in strength. But, he guessed, Germany had respect for Italy and through that respect, they could stand on even ground. America leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. England saw him as nothing more than a child, he would never give him that kind of respect. He couldn't even show up to the party and face him like a man.

America watched as the hours whittled down until the party finally ended. With a sigh, he followed the crowd to get his coat, shook hands with Poland, lied and said he had a good time, then walked out the door. It was raining pretty heavily and America realized he didn't have an umbrella. He smiled wryly.

"Perfect," he muttered and walked into the downpour. He stared down at his feet, watching the puddles he stepped in ripple and splash. He'd have walked all the way to his plane had he not been stopped by a familiar voice.

"America! What in bloody hell do you think you're doing? It's _raining_," England said, running up to him. He covered America with his umbrella. The younger man looked up and saw that England was dressed in a nice black suit.

"You just missed the party," he said. "It ended a while ago." England met America's eyes.

"I'm not here for the party. I'm here for you," he said softly. America frowned.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" England asked, confused.

"Don't mess with me. Don't pretend like you care when you don't. I can't take it." His voice broke, but he thanked God that it was raining and England couldn't see his tears. Suddenly, the umbrella dropped, and America found himself in England's embrace. Despite his brain telling him to push him away, he wrapped his arms around England's smaller frame and held him tight. He couldn't hide the fact that he was crying now, as his entire body shook as sobs tore through his chest. England just held him tighter, and waited until the shaking stopped. Even after America calmed down, England couldn't bring himself to let go of the younger man.

"I do care for you," he said into the well of his ear, "and not in a brotherly way." He pulled away from America and held him at arm's length.

"Don't lie to me," whispered America. England smiled and wiped the tears from America's cheeks with the side of his hand.

"I'm not lying. Look, you know I'm not good with these emotional things. I felt that, the only way I could love you, is if I kept you like a brother in my mind. But I don't see you like that anymore. I…" England stopped, looking as though he had said too much. America sniffled.

"You…?" he asked. England let go of him, and looked at the ground.

"I…I think I love you too."

America lifted England's chin so they were looking each other in the eyes.

"Do you mean that?" he whispered.

"I do."

Those two words took every dark cloud away from America's heart. He brought their lips together in a soft, but passionate kiss, once again wrapping his arms around England, who returned the kiss with the same energy, running his fingers through America's blonde hair. Though the two felt that they could stay that way forever, England was the first to break the kiss.

"I kind of have a surprise for you," he said breathless. America looked confused, but followed England behind a throng of trees. In the clearing, was a canopy decked with beautiful flowers and lanterns, giving the beaten down shelter a romantic air. England led America to the middle of the canopy and lifted their intertwined hands.

"May I have this dance?" he asked suavely. America chuckled.

"I'm the hero, I'm supposed to ask you," he said, looking over his glasses.

"I lead, I get to ask," England said, eyebrow twitching. America decided to let it go for once, and he accepted. Then, to no music, the two danced. They danced for hours, despite being soaked to the skin. Then, when they were thoroughly chilled and their feet ached, they went to England's home and spent their first night together.

America and England both woke the next morning with stuffy noses and a bad coughs, but both decided it was well worth it.

**Okay, that's the end. Please review, I enjoy them. Hope you enjoyed my fic.**

**-K.H. Wright**


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